


What Hurts Worse

by enigmaticblue



Series: A Sentinel in need of a Guide [7]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disabled Character, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: Jim got a call he never wanted.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Series: A Sentinel in need of a Guide [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/21375
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	What Hurts Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo February postage stamp challenge for the fills: chronic illness/pain, lacerations/knife wounds, surgery, job-related trauma. Title from the Iron & Wine song, “What Hurts Worse”

“ _Let’s forget whatever we lost/rolling around in the weeds/finding ourselves broken/looking for light on the floor./Let’s become the lovers we want/banging our heads in the fog/flowers will close and open/life going on like we care./One day is whatever we make/From pieces off the side of a road/Walked on our map of what hurts/What hurts worst.”_ ~Iron & Wine, “What Hurts Worse”

Blair woke up before Jim did, trying to get out of bed without waking him. Jim had his big test, and Blair wanted to be sure he was fueled up.

Blair was toasting an English muffin when Jim rolled into the kitchen. “How’s the pain today?” Blair asked.

Jim made a seesaw motion with his hand. “No better, and no worse. I skipped the meds today so I can be sharp.”

“Take some Motrin, anyway,” Blair replied, wrapping up the sandwich. “You don’t want the pain to be a distraction either.”

“Yes, mother,” Jim said, a teasing note in his voice.

Blair brushed a kiss across Jim’s lips, handing him a travel mug full of coffee and a breakfast sandwich wrapped in foil. “You’ll need the fuel.”

Jim smiled at him fondly. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s not everyday your boyfriend takes the LSAT,” Blair countered. “And I don’t want you getting hangry.”

Jim snorted. “I do not get ‘hangry.’”

“You definitely do,” Blair said firmly. “I have seen it in action.”

Jim apparently decided that discretion was the better part of valor and didn’t argue any further, probably because he knew that Blair could bring up specific examples. “Do you have another ride-along today?”

“Yeah, man,” Blair said enthusiastically. “Simon hooked me up with a detective who’s working cold cases. I’m interested in seeing how that differs from working active cases.”

“Just stay out of trouble,” Jim warned.

Blair waved off his concern. “It’s cold cases. We’ll probably just be looking at files.”

Jim shook his head. “Working cold cases also means interviewing or re-interviewing witnesses, and I’ve heard a few crazy stories about cold cases getting hot. Just be careful.”

“I will,” Blair promised, not wanting to cause Jim any worry right before he was due to take the LSAT. He’d been studying for months now. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on the test.”

“I gotta go if I’m not going to be late,” Jim replied. “I meant what I said about being careful!”

I know!” Blair called after him as he left.

Blair had to hurry if he wasn’t going to be late meeting the cold case detective. He knew how important it was to make a good first impression, and a lot of cops regarded him with distrust at first just because of how he looked.

With his focus on closed societies, Blair was strongly considering changing his focus to forensic anthropology once he’d written his dissertation, if he didn’t wind up teaching.

Simon had given him directions to the office used by the two cold case detectives at CPD, and so Blair went to the third floor. He knocked on the door of the office, and heard, “Come in!”

Blair entered and saw a woman, which he didn’t necessarily expect. Simone had given her name as Terry Milozs. She had iron gray hair cut short, and dark eyes, but she smiled when she saw him. “You must be Blair Sandburg. Captain Banks spoke highly of you.”

That surprised Blair, but he smiled. “Thanks for doing this. I’m trying to get a good feel for what it’s like inside a police department.”

“You’ll get a different perspective here, that’s for sure,” she replied. “Although I’m not sure I’m what you’d call _inside_ a police department.”

Blair plopped down in the chair across from her desk. “I’d like to hear about that, too. I’ll keep you anonymous.”

She snorted. “No need for that, Mr. Sandburg. Everybody around here knows my opinion, and I’m about two years out from retirement and full pension. I don’t give a fuck what they think about me.”

Blair was delighted. “I can completely respect that. You don’t mind me shadowing you today?”

Terry shook her head. “Not at all. I plan on reviewing files for most of the day, but I have some interviews this afternoon. I don’t mind you tagging along.”

Blair remembered what Jim said about cold cases heating up, but he thought he’d be fine with Terry. She’d been doing this job for a long time, and Blair figured she could keep him safe.

The morning flew by, although Blair glanced at the time frequently.

“Something you need to do?” Terry asked.

Blair hesitated. “My—Jim is taking the LSAT this morning, and I’m just wondering how he’s doing.”

“Detective Ellison?” Terry asked. “He’s going to law school?”

“Assuming he gets in, yeah,” Blair admitted. “I don’t know that the word is out around the entire PD yet, so—“

“They won’t hear it from me,” Terry replied. “He’s your partner, isn’t he? And don’t worry about me spreading that word either.”

Blair shrugged. “We haven’t really talked about coming out—whether or if.”

“Not an easy decision,” Terry said. “I think most people around the CPD know my roommate isn’t just my roommate, but I never felt the need to clarify, if I’m being honest.”

“I hope you’ll be honest,” Blair joked. “That’s kind of the point of this exercise.”

Terry nodded. “I worked with Jim a couple of times when I was a detective and he was working patrol. He was sharp, and courteous, and I wasn’t surprised when he got his detective shield. I was just sorry to hear about what happened to him. It sounds like he’s bouncing back, though.”

Blair smiled. “I hope I’ve been able to help him. Or at least helped him to realize that his life isn’t over.”

“A lot of cops would have felt like their lives were over after injuries that catastrophic,” Terry replied. “But enough personal stuff. What do you want to know about working cold cases?”

Blair hesitated. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know more about what it’s been like for you as a woman in the PD.”

Terry laughed. “You don’t pull your punches. Yeah, I’ll talk about it, but let’s do that over lunch. My partner will be here any second.”

Blair looked around the office, and spotted the other desk, covered in files. “I thought—“

“He tends to work late and come in late, whereas I’m the early bird,” Terry said. “I wouldn’t hold that against him. We don’t work in partnership as much in cold cases as they do in other departments.”

Blair nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Then let’s talk about working cold cases.”

Terry smiled. “We’re one of the few cold case departments in the country, but cold cases can help us identify possible serial killers.”

“What’s the most challenging aspect of working cold cases?” Blair asked, pulling out his pen and notebook to take notes.

“Obviously, the most challenging aspect is the passage of time,” Terry began, soon warming to her subject.

She talked about the difficulties in locating witnesses, and in getting them to talk to her, when a lot of them just wanted to forget anything happened. But then there are some, a lot of times the families of the victims, who only want to talk about what happened to their loved ones.

“Take this case,” Terry said, tapping a folder. “I’m going to reinterview the girlfriend of the victim later today if you want to come.”

Blair nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that. I normally wind up having to sit in the car, but if I could observe more closely, I think it would help.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Terry replied. “It’s just an interview.”

Later, Blair would remember those as famous last words.

~~~~~

Jim was relieved when he finished the test, although it wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated. He’d been practicing the logic tests enough over the last few months that he’s been able to make it through all of the questions with time to spare, which allowed him to go back and check his answers.

He wasn’t even the oldest person in the room, which surprised him. After the test was over, the woman approached him. She had graying hair and an upright bearing that made Jim think she might be military.

“It was nice to see someone else here who isn’t in their 20’s,” she said as she opened the door for Jim.

Jim had learned to accept the small courtesies from people without thinking it was necessarily a referendum on his abilities. “It was,” he agreed. “Second career? Post-military?”

She smiled. “Twenty years in the Army. How did you guess?”

“Well, in a former life, I was an Army Ranger,” Jim replied.

She hesitated. “Is that—?”

“No, I was a cop after the Rangers,” Jim said. “On-the-job injury.”

“So, what’s your plan after law school?” she asked, and Jim was glad that she didn’t ask any additional questions about his injury.

Jim shrugged. “Maybe prosecution. You?”

“Same, actually,” she replied. “I was a paralegal for JAG in the service.”

“Where are you hoping to go?” Jim asked.

“Rainier, actually,” she said. “My family is here. What about you?”

Jim hesitated. “My partner is a grad student at Rainier, actually, so I plan on staying here, too.”

He knew that his use of the term would clue her in to his domestic situation, and that it might turn her off, but instead she nodded. “What is he studying?”

“Anthropology,” Jim replied. “He was the one who inspired me to go back to school.”

“Well, I hope to see you in the fall, then,” she said, and then held out a hand. “Ann Cunningham.”

“Jim Ellison.” He shook her hand. “I look forward to seeing you, too. I was a little worried that I’d be the only one going to law school as a second—or third—career.”

Ann laughs. “Same here. Good luck, Jim.”

“You, too,” Jim replied.

He drove back to the loft, expecting to hear something from Blair, since he’d been his biggest cheerleader, but there was nothing. He stopped through Wonder Burger on the way home, because he was starving, and Blair wasn’t there to chide him about his cholesterol.

Jim got into the loft and heard the phone ringing, and he wheeled over to their landline. “Ellison.”

“Jim.” Simon’s baritone was immediately recognizable, and his heavy tone made Jim’s stomach sink.

“What happened?” he demanded, Blair’s silence suddenly understandable.

“He was with Terry Milozs,” Simon said. “She was reinterviewing a witness, and it turned out that her current boyfriend was responsible for the homicide. He thought they were onto him.”

Jim closed his eyes. “How bad, Simon?”

“He’s at Cascade General, and he just went into surgery,” Simon replied. “It was a knife wound to the gut, but the doctors think he’ll pull through. Do you need a ride?”

“I can drive myself,” Jim replied. “I’ll be there shortly.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Jim knew the way, so he could drive on autopilot, transferring out of his truck to his chair, and wheeling in through the ER automatic doors.

Simon was waiting for him there, as was Terry Milozs. Jim spotted the blood on the cuffs of Terry’s button-down shirt. “What happened?”

Terry winced. “I’m sorry, Jim. I thought it would be safe.”

“I know how it goes,” Jim replied. “Things heat up when you don’t expect.”

He’d been worried about this ever since Blair started doing his ride-alongs, but Jim hadn’t really expected Blair to be badly hurt.

“Come on,” Simon said. “The OR is on the third floor, and that’s where the surgeon said he’d meet us once he had news.”

They took the elevator up, and Jim found himself praying for the first time in a long time.

~~~~~

As many ride-alongs as Blair had done by now, this was the first time he’d been able to go out in the field with a detective. Terry briefed him on the way to the interview. “Debbie Olson was the girlfriend of the deceased at the time of the murder,” she explained as they drove. “The detective who originally worked the case thought she might know more than what she was saying, but there’s no evidence of that. But that was ten years ago, and she might be more forthcoming today.”

Blair nodded. “How do you approach interviews like this?”

“I try to engage them as partners in solving the crime,” Terry replied. “I tell them they can help the families get closure, or that they can get closure themselves if they cooperate with me. I try to keep it non confrontational as much as possible.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Blair replied. “And you’re sure I’m not going to cramp your style?”

“No, I’m sure it will be fine,” Terry said. “In fact, having an observer there might set her at ease, since she’ll know we’re not treating her like a suspect.”

Blair could see the reasoning. “Got it.”

“She’s expecting us, or at least she’s expecting me,” Terry added. “If she has a problem with you being here, I’ll have to ask you to wait in the car.”

Blair nodded. “I completely understand. I wouldn’t want to compromise your investigation.”

Terry pulled up in front of a small, shabby house in an area of Cascade where Blair would have been right at home, at least until he moved in with Jim. The loft was a better place to live than what Blair had experienced for a long time.

He followed her up to the front door, and watched as she knocked. The woman who answered the door was a mousy, timid woman dressed in torn jeans and a dirty, long-sleeved t-shirt.”Yes?”

“I’m Detective Milozs. We spoke on the phone?” she said. “I told you I’d be stopping by today.”

“Oh, yes,” Debbie said faintly. “But who is he?”

“This is Blair Sandburg,” Terry said soothingly. “He’s doing a dissertation on the police. He would like to observe, but he’ll wait in the car if you’re not comfortable with his presence.”

“No, that’s fine,” she said in the same timid voice. “Please, come in.”

“Is there anyone else in the house with you?” Terry asked.

“No, I’m here by myself.” She offers them coffee, and Terry said, “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Thanks,” Blair echoed.

“Cream or sugar?” Debbie asked.

“Black is fine,” Terry replied, and again, Blair echoed her.

Blair watched as Terry questioned Debbie—about her relationship with the victim, what she remembered about the day he was killed, and if she knew anything about what might have happened.

Her answers were vague, more so than what Blair would have expected. He knew that if someone told him that Jim had been killed, he’d remember every detail of the day. At least, he thought he would.

“Do you remember seeing anyone unfamiliar that day?” Terry questioned gently.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, pulling on the long sleeves of her shirt. “I don’t think so.”

“Anyone else, then?” Terry asked.

“I really don’t remember.”

Blair watched as Terry asked variations of the same questions, trying to elicit a little more information from Debbie, without much success.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Blair asked when it appeared that the interview was wrapping up.

Debbie bit her lip. “Oh, no, I suppose that would be okay. It’s just down the hall, second door on the right.”

He found the bathroom easily enough, and quickly did his business. He finished drying his hands and went back down the hall, only to have the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He felt someone behind him, and he didn’t have the chance to turn around when he felt an arm snake around his neck, and a sharp pain in his side, then another.

“Teach you to come snooping around,” a man’s voice snarled in Blair’s ear. “I’m not going back.”

“Release him, right now.” Terry appeared in the entry to the hall, gun drawn, looking like an avenging angel.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” the man demanded, keeping Blair in front of him as a human shield.

“If you don’t release him and drop your weapon, I will shoot,” Terry replied.

The man’s arm tightened around Blair’s neck. “I’m not going back to prison.”

Terry kept her weapon trained on them. “Do you really want to die? Right now, all we have is an assault. But if you kill him, I will shoot you. If you don’t release him, I’ll shoot you. And your head is the only part of you I can hit.”

There was a very tense moment, and then the arm around Blair’s neck loosened, and Blair fell to his knees, clamping an arm against the wound on his side.

Terry ordered, “Face the wall, put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers. Blair? You okay?”

“Not really,” Blair replied, feeling cold and faint. “He stabbed me.”

Terry snapped the cuffs on the man’s wrists, and yelled, “Debbie, call 911 now!”

She began to read the man his rights as dark spots danced in front of Blair’s eyes.

“Blair, stay with me,” Terry said. “The ambulance is on the way.”

Blair tried to stay conscious, but darkness took over, and he knew nothing for a long time.

~~~~~

Jim glanced up when the surgeon entered the waiting room. They’d been there for a few hours now with no word, and Jim’s anxiety was climbing ever higher.

“Are you here for Mr. Sandburg?” The surgeon had some blood on his scrubs, but while he appeared weary, he also seemed pleased.

“I’m Jim Ellison, his emergency contact,” Jim said quickly. “How is he?”

“He had a perforated stomach, which we were able to repair in surgery,” the surgeon assured him. “He’ll be on a liquid diet for a while, and we’ll want to keep him here at least a couple of days, but he’s going to make a full recovery.”

Jim breathed a sigh of relief. “When can I see him?”

“He’s being moved into recovery now,” the surgeon replied. “I’ll have a nurse come get you when he’s ready.”

“Thank you,” Jim said.

Simon clapped Jim on the shoulder. “Sandburg is tougher than he looks.”

Terry also looked relieved. “I really am sorry, Jim. And I’m glad he’s going to pull through.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jim replied. “I’m just glad you were able to prevent him from being hurt worse.”

And he meant it. Milosz was a good detective, and there was no reason to believe that a murderer was hanging around a witness nearly a decade later.

It was only a short time later when the nurse appeared. “Just one at a time.”

“You go ahead, Jim,” Simon said. “Do you want us to stay?”

“No, I’m good,” Jim replied. “I’ll probably stick around until they kick me out tonight.”

“Call if you need anything,” Simon ordered.

Jim followed the nurse back, and quickly took in the sight. Blair was pale and had a nasal cannula and an IV, with a pulse monitor on his finger. His pulse was strong and steady, though, and his breathing was even.

Jim rolled up to the bed, and reached out for Blair’s hand, gripping it tightly. “You can’t scare me like that, Chief.”

Blair’s eyelids fluttered, and he groaned. “Jim?” His voice was raspy.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Jim squeezed his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Hurts,” Blair replied. He managed to open his eyes. “How’d the test go?”

Jim shook his head. “Only you would ask me that question right now.”

“Big day for you,” Blair countered.

“The test went fine, I think,” Jim replied. “And I wasn’t the oldest person there, which was a relief.”

“That’s good,” Blair murmured, his eyes drifting shut. “Sorry about scaring you, big guy.”

“Terry told me what happened,” Jim said quietly. “You helped catch a murderer.”

Blair snorted. “You mean I got stabbed because that asshole was paranoid. If he’d just stayed hidden, we probably would never have caught him.”

“Most criminals aren’t very bright,” Jim said dryly. “It’s why they get caught.”

“Good thing,” Blair murmured. “Are you gonna stay?”

“As long as they let me,” Jim replied. “I’ll be here.”

“Tha’s good,” Blair said. “I know how much you hate hospitals.”

He was drifting off again, and Jim just said, “There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.”

He shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable, and wishing that he’d been able to take his pain medication today. But he was in it for the long haul, pain or no pain.

Blair would do no less for him.


End file.
